


mirror, mirror

by tri_angle



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: M/M, San for like 0.2 seconds, yep it's clonefucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tri_angle/pseuds/tri_angle
Summary: Yunho has never considered alternative dimensions until he finds himself living with not one, but two Seonghwas. Like one isn't bad enough for his sanity as it is.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 26
Kudos: 243





	mirror, mirror

**Author's Note:**

> all i wanted was a yunho sandwich and this bitch grew a fckn plot

Yunho never really thought about the possibility of alternative universes. Dimensions? He’s really not good at all that, honestly. Maybe somewhere out there there’s another Yunho living a completely different life. Maybe he’s a lawyer! Maybe a teacher. That’s more likely. Then again, Yunho wouldn’t know - he never considered the possibilities, far-fetched as they were.

Then again, the person standing in the middle of his living room at the moment doesn’t seem far-fetched at all.

Seonghwa is standing on the other side of the room, leaning on the doorway, expression caught somewhere between puzzled, annoyed and intrigued. It’s a little funny, Yunho has to admit, even if he kind of feels a little like a fish out of water.

Because the person in their living room is also Seonghwa. 

Well, an alternative Seonghwa, as the person corrects them in a huff each time one of them opens their mouth to point out that this might very well be a shared hallucination.

A small part of Yunho is currently going haywire with the possibilities of two Seonghwas. But this is a part of him he’s become a pro at ignoring. There is a time and place for everything. Like maybe tonight, late enough to be considered early, when Yunho is alone in his room-

“I’m getting a headache,” Seonghwa says, straightening himself up. “I have enough things to do without having to worry about,” he glances at the other Seonghwa, then sighs. “About another me.”

"I'll deal with it," Yunho blurts out, ever the helpful one. 

Seonghwa nods and disappears back into his room.  _ The other Seonghwa  _ raises an eyebrow.

"Hi," Yunho offers meekly, even though they did introductions already. Then again, Yunho may or may not have screamed in place of his.

Sure, he promised Seonghwa he'll deal with this, because he's a helpful (and definitely not whipped) friend.

_ How  _ he's gonna deal with it is a whole other problem.

*

The thing is, the apartment Yunho and Seonghwa share only  _ seems  _ big.

Three rooms sound great in theory but they're decidedly not big and Yunho's living room is actually a living room/kitchen combo that has all the kitchen appliances sectioned off in one corner, separated by a row of counters. On the other side of the room, there is a small coffee table, surrounded by two tiny chairs and an old loveseat which pulls out into a relatively decent bed. There is a TV too, even if neither Yunho nor Seonghwa use it much.

The obvious solution is that their guest is taking the loveseat, even if Yunho kind of wants to cry each time he thinks about how he'll probably have to rearrange the furniture twice a day for the foreseeable future. 

Currently, the other Seonghwa is standing next to him, a displeased expression on his face. At least Yunho thinks so. He doesn’t dare look him in the eyes too much - he might have been able to hide his infatuation with Seonghwa for the past two years, mainly because at this point Seonghwa probably considers all the fumbling normal Yunho behavior.

This other Seonghwa, though. Yunho feels like an involuntarily open book.

So he spends the few times they have actual conversation looking at his chin, his shoulders, his neck. The pretty maroon pendant that he wears. It’s a really pretty pendant, Yunho allows himself to think while his eyes follow the hint of collarbone disappearing into Seonghwa’s shirt.

“This is going to be so messy,” Seonghwa mutters, arms crossed.

It’s almost word for word what Yunho’s Seonghwa said when he was presented with the idea. So Yunho repeats what he said then, too. “Yeah, well. We don’t exactly have a choice.”

Seonghwa had only sighed back then but now, alternative Seonghwa turns to give Yunho a raised eyebrow. He has the smirk to match.

“We could always share.”

“Seonghwa would never let you,” Yunho sputters, his traitorous brain already working overtime with the image.

Seonghwa’s smirk grows into a full blown grin now. “I meant you and me, but that’s an interesting angle to consider.”

Yunho has to blink a couple of times, frantically trying to get rid of the thought of Seonghwa doubled, sprawled on Seonghwa’s huge king bed. 

It takes a moment before the other Seonghwa’s words catch up to him. “What I meant was,” he hurries to amend, way too late, “Seonghwa has this huge king bed because he’s in the actual bedroom of the house, right? And my room originally was a kid’s room so I only have a single.”

The other Seonghwa watches him for a bit, silent, expression unreadable.

“Do you even fit on that single?” His eyes travel down from Yunho’s face down to his chest, legs, then back up. “You’re a bit… big.”

Yunho can feel his face heat up but forces himself to keep eye contact. He’s not backing down in his own home. “Well,” he says, as casual as he can muster, “I would’ve probably felt lonely in that huge bed anyway.”

It sounds unfinished, off, like a badly thought out innuendo. This Seonghwa seems to see it as such, even if he doesn’t address it.

Yunho is thankful. It’s comforting to know that an alternative Seonghwa still has the sixth sense that makes him side-step all of Yunho’s involuntary messes without him having to ask.

*

They quickly decide that alternative Seonghwa is not allowed outside while Yunho’s Seonghwa is. In addition, if he wants to be out while Seonghwa is home, he has to be accompanied by Yunho at all times.

Yunho takes alternative Seonghwa out to the library on one of Seonghwa’s days off, checks out the maximum number of books he’s allowed to at the same time, all on the theory of alternative dimensions. There are a lot more out there than Yunho thought there would be.

“You could’ve probably found all of this on the internet,” Yunho points out, struggling under the weight of his stack of books. Some of them are  _ heavy. _

Seonghwa gives him a sideways glance. “You try sitting in a chair staring at a screen all damn day.”

“That’s kind of my job,” Yunho mumbles. He definitely enjoys working in IT, he has the back pain to prove it. Which kind of makes Seonghwa’s words sting a tad bit more. 

Seonghwa, on the other hand, shrugs. “That doesn’t make it healthier.”

It’s eerily similar to the conversation Yunho sometimes has with this world’s Seonghwa, on the rare occasions he pouts a massage out of him. Seonghwa’s hands are  _ magic  _ and while Yunho may sometimes enjoy it in ways he shouldn’t, he’d probably be a lot worse if not for Seonghwa’s occasional massages.

Yunho idly wonders what this Seonghwa’s hands feel like.

He promptly kills the thought. It’s one thing to crush, lust (be generally in love with?) your hot roommate. Lusting after his weird alternate dimension version is a whole other can of worms that Yunho definitely doesn’t want to stick his hand in.

He’s so determined to not think about it that he barely stops himself from running straight into someone. When he looks up from the ground to apologize and maybe glare at the unmoving body, Yunho rolls his eyes, apology forgotten.

“You would’ve ran me over, too,” San sighs dramatically, in lieu of a greeting.

“You could’ve moved,” Yunho retorts, adjusting the books in his hands. He glances at Seonghwa, fighting the thread of worry slowly weaving itself in his gut.

They did expect the possibility of running into a mutual friend so Seonghwa had given his other version a quick rundown of some of the people they could meet. San was one of them, especially since the apartment he shares with Hongjoong is in the general vicinity of the library.

To his credit, Seonghwa takes it rather well. He doesn’t look surprised or uncomfortable, even if he can’t seem to take his eyes off San. 

San gives him a curious look. “Hey, Seonghwa,” he glances down at the books Seonghwa is holding as well. “Didn’t peg you for a bookworm of this magnitude”

“What can I say,” Seonghwa shrugs, albeit somewhat stiff. “I’m full of surprises.”

It has a bit of an edge to it, a hint of flirting. San blinks up at him, then laughs. He’s always been more of Yunho’s friend than Seonghwa’s so they haven’t interacted all that much. It’s nothing unsalvageable but Yunho hurries to grab Seonghwa’s wrist, dragging him away.

“Sorry San, nice to see you but we have to run,” he says all in one breath, leaving a startled San behin.

“Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily,” San shouts after him, though he doesn’t follow, at least. Which probably means Yunho will be flooded by questions on kakao later but for now, he’s free. He’s willing to count his blessings.

*

If he’s being honest, Yunho isn't sure if he would take the whole other-dimension-self situation as calm as Seonghwa is in his place. After the initial… encounter, Seongwa is a lot less hostile towards his double. He still startles each time the other Seonghwa enters the room, which is quite often, given that he sleeps on their sofa. Other than that, though, he just looks tired and frankly, Yunho can relate.

There is a reason their apartment wasn't available for three people. Sure, it may have worked if two of those three shared Seonghwa’s giant bed but as it is? With the sofa pulled out more often than not and a third person being constantly around with very little to occupy his abundant free time, well. It helps that while Seonghwa isn’t hostile he doesn’t go out of his way to entertain his alternative version either. And Yunho did promise. 

He gets so used to being a glorified babysitter for alternative Seonghwa that when he comes back from work to see only Seonghwa, his Seonghwa, lounging in the living room, his first reaction is panic.

“Where’s our guest?” He asks, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

Seonghwa blinks up from his book. “You didn’t even question which one of us I am,” he points out, curiosity swimming in his eyes.

“I didn’t,” Yunho admits, frantically trying to come up with a reasoning that’s not  _ I’ve been hyperfixated on you for two years,  _ “we’ve lived together for quite a while, what kind of roommate would I be if I couldn’t even recognize you?”

“Sometimes even I have trouble telling us apart,” Seonghwa shrugs, eyes back on his book. “He’s in the bathroom. He’s been there for a while, though, I have no idea what he’s doing.”

Yunho’s tired brain immediately comes up with a million scenarios, each one worse than the last. He stumps out the worst of them, ditches his backpack on a kitchen chair and heads for the bathroom. He resolutely ignores the pang of ill-advised excitement.

The door to the bathroom is cracked open which settles his nerves somewhat. In the end, despite the million scenarios, Yunho is wholly unprepared for the sight that meets him inside.

Alternative Seonghwa is in one of Seonghwa’s tank tops, one that has caused Yunho’s poor brain one too many questionable thoughts. Worse yet, a good half of the horrible tank top is wet where the alternative Seonghwa has his head in the bathroom sink. He must hear the steps a bit too late because he startles, knocking his head on the tap. When he finally straightens up to look at Yunho he’s rubbing the back of his head, sheepish.

It does absolutely nothing to help the sudden desert that has become of Yunho’s throat.

Because if a wet tank top wasn’t enough, alternative Seonghwa’s hair is now blonde, wet and falling into his eyes, dripping down his face, his neck, into his collarbones. He pushes his fringe out of his eyes, which results in a few stray droplets landing back on the bathroom mirror to his side. To say Yunho is mesmerised would probably be an understatement.

“What,” he manages to force out when the awkward staring goes on for a little too long.

Alternative Seonghwa runs a hand through his wet hair, slowly, eyes on Yunho the entire time. Yunho wants to die. When Seonghwa has deemed the torture enough, he laughs to himself, reaching back for a towel.

“This whole  _ another me _ situation affects me too, you know.” He pauses to towel off his hair, which makes everything worse, somehow. When Seonghwa looks up this time, there’s no trace of amusement in his eyes. “I needed something to remind myself I’m my own person, too.”

The haze of highly inappropriate thoughts shatters, a new one breaking through. Yunho never really considered the person in front of him as something other than  _ alternative Seonghwa. _ The other one. A copy of the person he’s had unfortunate feelings for, for too long. But in his own world this Seonghwa is the real one - if the roles were reversed, Yunho’s Seonghwa would have been the outsider.

In a rush, Yunho realizes it’s not just his roommate that’s been taking things better than he expected. Both of them are.

But then again, they are the same person. Or different versions of one, anyway.

*

The novelty of staring at a version of Seonghwa that is blonde wears off within a few days. At the end of the day, while Yunho finds him gorgeous by virtue of him having the same face as the guy he’s crushing on, he is a different person. 

It helps that Yunho realizes something else, too: alternative Seonghwa has caught on to his attraction. Yunho is absolutely sure of it, if all the raised-eyebrow looks are anything to go by. And they happen almost every time Yunho allows himself to stare at Seonghwa for a moment too long. 

He hasn’t said anything which Yunho is grateful for but he’s also running increasingly bored, which is worrying. The research isn’t giving much result, even if alternative Seonghwa spends the majority of his time alone poring through more and more books which only give vague mentions of inter-dimension travelling. It has to be frustrating.

Surprisingly, or maybe not at all, he finds an outlet for that in making Yunho’s life harder.

At least there still hasn’t been any direct mentions of Yunho’s thing for his roommate. Instead, alternative Seonghwa goes out of his way to sit as close as possible at any given occasion. And all the  _ accidental  _ touching. Yunho doesn’t believe for one second that it’s accidental.

And to be fair - while his feelings for Seonghwa remain the same, alternative Seonghwa does look almost exactly the same. He is the same person really, a small part of Yunho chirps each time he closes his eyes and images of both versions of Seonghwa flood his brain. Yunho is only human.

*

It all goes downhill on a warm autumn evening, when Yunho ended up coming home earlier than expected and Seonghwa is running late from work.

The other Seonghwa ambushes Yunho in the hallway, that goddamn tank top on again. His blonde hair is falling in his eyes and he looks like Yunho is what he’s planning to have for dinner.

He smiles and Yunho takes a step back. He hasn’t hit the wall yet but he will, very soon. Seonghwa takes a step forward.

“I can see how you look at him,” Seonghwa says.  _ The other Seonghwa _ Yunho reminds himself. “Haven’t you ever imagined what it would be like?”

And as much as Yunho hates himself for admitting it, it’s true. So true. The look in this Seonghwa’s eyes is everything he’s imagined on his Seonghwa’s face, in the wee hours of the night.

“You’re not him,” Yunho points out feebly. His resolve’s crumbling with almost audible clatter, though. He can feel the coldness of the wall seeping through his shirt. Seonghwa takes another step forward and for the first time, Yunho finds it hard to notice the differences.

“Oh,” Seonghwa laughs, hands on Yunho’s hips now. “Oh, but I am.”

*

Seonghwa comes home right as Yunho has his ankles locked behind his other version’s lower back. Yunho spares what little brain process he has to pat his past self on the back for remembering to lock the door. It wouldn’t do much if Yunho were being as loud as he was five minutes ago but he’s determined to not make a sound now. It’s a miracle he was even able to hear the front door open but it’s a miracle he very much appreciates.

Alternative Seonghwa, on the other hand, is determined to make his life hell.

His fingers dig in Yunho’s hips, lifting him off the pillow he’d propped himself on. Yunho instinctively grabs onto his bed frame to steady himself against the power of Seonghwa’s thrusts, which results in a few rather loud creaks before Yunho gets back to gripping at the sheets. Seonghwa grins above him, wicked, even with the sweat drops running down his face.

He leans down, essentially folding Yunho in half, his breath hot on Yunho’s ear. “I wonder what he’d say if he saw you right now.”

Yunho can’t for the life of him suppress the whine that follows. Seonghwa at least has the mercy to kiss him through his orgasm. 

He can worry about the morality of it all later.

*

_ A different person, _ Yunho tells himself as Seonghwa’s face watches him through a blonde fringe. 

He feels dirty but also awesome and really, if the object of your fantasies knows you’re using him as that - a fantasy - it’s not that bad, right?

He wonders how this world’s Seonghwa would feel about the whole thing.

But what you don’t know can’t kill you and all that. 

Right?

As it is, alternative Seonghwa is sitting at the foot of Yunho's bed, in a pair of Yunho's pyjama pants, sans a tshirt. It's one of the rare times Yunho and Seonghwa's shifts don’t overlap in the slightest and his alternative version was more than happy to utilize the alone time. Now, Yunho is having a hard time not staring at alternative Seonghwa's bare chest as he patiently waits out Yunho's existential crisis, a book open in his lap. 

“What’s your Yunho like?” Yunho blurts out, desperately searching for something to break the silence. 

Seonghwa looks up from his book, curious. “The same, really. We're more like acquaintances, though, so I'm not sure if I'm a good judge for that. You’re also into someone else.”

Of all the things, this is the one that throws Yunho for a loop. He can imagine himself as a teacher, even a lawyer. But somehow, imagining a life where he's not hopelessly in love with his roommate is the thought he can't wrap his mind around. 

He has to know, even if he’s not sure if he wants to. “Who is it?”

“His name is Yeosang?” Seonghwa offers. He rests his chin on his knees, staring at nothing in particular. “I’m not that close to him either, you’re both friends of people really close to me.”

Yunho blinks up at him. He does know an Yeosang in his world, too. It’s probably the same one, given that they’re all tangled together somehow, always. Except, in Yunho’s world it was Seonghwa who was into Yeosang. They both were into each other, really, even dated for quite a bit. It was around the beginning of Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s cohabitation and right about the time Yunho figured he’ll never have Yeosang’s pretty eyes or the way he smiles and makes Seonghwa smile by proxy. He’ll never have Seonghwa period.

Those are thoughts meant for the dead of night when he’s feeling particularly sappy, though, so Yunho shakes his head. There are a lot more angles to explore in this conversation.

"And what about you?"

Seonghwa startles, blinking up at Yunho like he forgot he's even in the room. "What about me?"

Yunho can't help but laugh at the lost expression on his face. "What are you like? Back at home. What's your life like?"

“I’m a librarian,” Seonghwa replies easily. 

Yunho waits for the punchline but it never comes. “Wait, really?”

“Do I not look like a librarian?” Seonghwa laughs, waving his book in Yunho’s general direction. “Librarians aren’t just the bored ederly ladies movies like to make them.”

“I...” Yunho tries to defend himself but comes up short. That’s exactly what he was imagining.

Seonghwa reaches to pat his ankle, smiling. “It’s okay, stop looking at me like that. But yeah. I’m also in a relationship with someone. Well,” he narrows his eyes, eyes glued on Yunho’s face. “Actually it’s multiple someones. Two.”

Yunho blinks at him. “Wait, so. Like... an emotional threesome? ”

In his defence, Yunho has heard of poly relationships. He just never considered the fact that they… are a thing. In real life.

To his relief, Seonghwa only laughs. “That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

The second implication of Seonghwa’s words niggles at Yunho’s conscience. If this Seonghwa is anything like the one Yunho knows, and he is, he’d never intentionally hurt someone he loves. But then again, different people-

“Stop,” Seonghwa interrupts, voice soft. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not hurting either of them, I would never. They’re both very open minded minded about this kind of thing. Actually, I’m pretty sure they would send me right back into this dimension if they knew I had the chance to fuck an alternative version of you and missed it.”

It’s a little surreal, being regarded as the alternative version. Yunho firmly ignores the rest of that sentence.

Seonghwa laughs again, quiet and amused.

Yunho spares a moment to think who these two people may be. Does he know them? Or at least this world’s version of them. Suddenly, vividly, Seonghwa’s expression when they ran into San on their first trip to the library floats to the surface of Yunho’s brain.

He shakes his head, hoping to shake the thoughts off with it. He doesn’t need to imagine more gorgeous people next to Seonghwa, alternative or not. His stupid feelings are bad enough as it is.

*

Seonghwa has been far from hostile to his alternative version, sure. It doesn’t help the rush of surprise when Yunho comes home one night to find them together on the floor in the living room, huddled over a book. The loveseat is pulled back along with the coffee table, the floor being covered in piles of books instead.

Yunho clears his throat and both Seonghwas look up at him, scarily in sync. It’s a mesmerising sight, black and blonde framing the same face times two. Yunho can’t tear his eyes away.

“Hey,” alternative Seonghwa greets, smiling in a way Yunho hasn’t seen him smile before. “I think we figured out how I can go home.”

Ah. Right. Yunho hasn’t seen the alternative version of Seonghwa smile like that but he has seen Seonghwa himself to it. When his mom would call or when Yunho’s mom would send him food from home even though they both insisted they’re too old for that now, she doesn’t have to. On the rare occasions Yunho manages to cook something edible.

It tugs at something in his gut, though. A selfish part of Yunho replays his times spent with alternative Seonghwa, laments the prospect of going back to how things were before.

Yunho rubs at his eyes like that would chase the images away, then smiles. “Really? How?”

Seonghwa gives him a curious look, scooting over to make space on the floor, in between two smaller piles of books.

“I think it’s this,” the other Seonghwa says, tapping at his pendant. Yunho’s eyes follow the line of the chain down to the maroon pendant at the end of it, then down to the neckline of his shirt-

Yunho snaps his eyes up, ignoring the knowing look and curiosity, respectively, in the two Seonghwas’ eyes. “How?”

“My boyfriend gave it to me the day before I showed up here,” alternative Seonghwa explains, a small smile on his lips. “Well, both of them. But the one that actually put it on me, his words were,  _ hopefully this will make your life a bit more interesting.” _

“Cute,” Seonghwa mumbles, eyes on the pendant as well.

Alternative Seonghwa laughs, wrapping his fingers around it. “They are. I maintain that my life is interesting enough with the two of them but alas. Apparently they got it off some psychic lady on the street who claimed it was in their future, so it belonged to them.”

“And they gave it to you,” Yunho points out incredulously.

“They said I’m their future.” Alternative Seonghwa shrugs, not meeting either of their eyes. 

“Didn’t peg San for such a sap,” Yunho laughs, startling both of them. “We ran into him on the way back from the library once,” he explains to Seonghwa’s wide eyes. “Seonghwa here couldn’t take his eyes off him, I put two and two together.”

The surprise is replaced by near-fascination now, as Seonghwa turns to his alternative self. “I’m curious now, who is the other one?”

“Of course you are,” alternative Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I’d be too but then again, you know why I’d rather not, right?”

Yunho doesn’t have to be Seonghwa to know - he’d miss them too, in his place.

.”So the pendant,” he says, pointing at the book between them. “How does that bring you home?”

“It’s not only the pendant,” alternative Seonghwa explains, a little breathless with excitement. “I’ve been with it non-stop since I came here and I would’ve gone home by now if it was that. I think it needs special circumstances to happen. I’m pretty sure it was a full moon when Wooyoung gave me the pendant. So that’s how you go.”

He doesn’t seem to realize his slip up. Yunho doesn’t point it out and neither does Seonghwa, even if his eyes go a little wide in surprise. Yunho has met Wooyoung a few times, back when Seonghwa was still dating Yeosang. Both Wooyoung and Yunho had been dragged along to dates they definitely didn’t want to be a part of and commiserated over Seonghwa and Yeosang ditching them fifteen minutes into whatever event they were visiting.

Wooyoung is cool. Not cool enough for Yunho to imagine him next to  _ his  _ Seonghwa but at the end of the day, they are different people. Mostly.

“So?” Yunho prompts, when no one says anything for a few seconds.

“We found this book,” Seonghwa continues, turning a page in said book. “It said that some ancient text spoke of people who’d disappear on a full moon, only to come back days, sometimes months later with strange tales of different cities who had the same people, but different.”

“I assume they missed the bit about the pendant,” alternative Seonghwa laughs, cradling his own again. “We figured if it’s tied to the moon phases, that’s probably how I can go home too. But the full moon has already passed here and I’m still not home, so probably new moon?”

Yunho takes a moment to process this. “So you’ll be gone by the new moon?” 

He gets a nod in response.

“And when is that?”

“In two weeks,” alternative Seonghwa replies, eyes sparkling.

He looks so happy about it and Yunho can’t blame him, not at all, but he can’t help the selfish pang of regret anyway. 

*

Things settle for a while after that. They say that beating yourself up over something only lasts for so long before your brain decides fuck it, I’m enjoying this. By the second week, Yunho has accepted that sleeping with an alternative version of Seonghwa regularly is far from the brightest idea he’s ever had. He also can’t bring himself to care. It helps that now Yunho feels like there’s a giant clock constantly above his head, ticking off the time he has left to live out his stupid crush, even if it’s essentially nothing but roleplay.

It’s so easy to get lost in the touch of Seonghwa’s hands. Even this foreign Seonghwa - he’s still Seonghwa, in the end. And Yunho has always been weak for Seonghwa. 

It’s probably why the rational part of his brain shuts down as soon as Seonghwa’s fingers slip under his shirt. It’s inconvenient, especially now. Because Seonghwa - Yunho’s Seonghwa - is standing at the door to Yunho’s room, backlit by the hallway light.

Yunho pushes the other Seonghwa off himself in a panic, scrambling to pull the blankets up to his chin. The other Seonghwa has no such qualms, even though he does pull a sheet over the important parts, at least. Yunho figures being naked in front of other people feels different than being naked in front of yourself.

“You’re fucking me,” Seonghwa states from the doorway, voice even. He doesn’t look disgusted which Yunho considers a win. But then again, the complete lack of expression isn’t all that comforting.

The other Seonghwa grins, fingers clasped under his chin.  _ “Me _ is a little ambiguous in this case, don’t you think?”

“I’m just,” Seonghwa trails off, eyes trained on them. Yunho wonders what it feels like. Right now, with the other Seonghwa sprawled in Yunho’s bed, smirking and naked, save for the flimsy sheet thrown over his hips. Does Seonghwa find himself attractive? Would he-

Yunho kills that train of thought before it has a chance to take root. Now is very much  _ not  _ the time.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Seonghwa says eventually, glancing at Yunho before he straightens himself up. “You… do your thing, I guess.”

The door clicks shut after him and Yunho waits a whole minute before he burrows under the covers fully, groaning.

Seonghwa pats the bundle of blankets. “Hey, it wasn’t that bad. Actually, I’m pretty sure he was into it.”

That makes Yunho throw the blankets off, just to stare at Seonghwa’s smug face with distrust.

“You don’t know that.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “I kind of do. We’re the same person.”

“You’re not,” Yunho points out. They  _ are  _ different people. Their appearance might be near-identical, sure. And Yunho likes to ignore the differences most of the time, especially in more compromising situations. But in the end, if it comes down to it, he’s confident he can pick out his Seonghwa from this alternate version of him, even if the hair color weren’t a dead giveaway.

“Technicalities,” Seonghwa purrs, waving a hand dismissively. He shifts to loom over Yunho swallows under his gaze, his grip on the covers gradually loosening. Seonghwa smirks. “We may have grown up in different realities but at the end of the day, he is me and I am him. I know how he thinks because I know how I think. And I think,” he tugs at the edge of the covers, letting it slip off Yunho’s chest. “I think he’d enjoy watching you squirm between the two of us just as much as I would.”

Yunho swallows again, right before the cover slips off entirely. There are a thousand thoughts racing through his brain but all it takes is Seonghwa dragging his nails up his thigh, before all thought process flies out the window.

*

If Yunho had any sense of decency, he would’ve gotten up and dressed as soon as Seonghwa closed the door after the incident. He would’ve followed Seonghwa,  _ his  _ Seonghwa, and would’ve apologized profusely, then promised it would never happen again.

As it is, Yunho stumbles out of his room, semi-dressed, hair a mess and throat scratchy from all the noise he tried not to make.

It’s a disaster.

To make matters worse, Seonghwa isn’t barricaded in his room like Yunho thought he would be. It probably paints a better picture of their future as roommates than what Yunho imagined as the alternative but he really, really isn’t ready to face Seonghwa yet.

It’s moments like these when he wishes their living room and kitchen were separate. He’s already at the door of their kitchen-living room combo and there is no way in hell Seonghwa hasn’t noticed him yet. Walking back to his room would mean failure first and getting back to the other Seonghwa second. Both of which aren’t a desirable option at the moment. Mainly because despite the whirlwind of emotions in him, Yunho just knows that the other Seonghwa will find a way to drag him back to bed. 

No.

In the end, he chooses to busy himself in the kitchen corner, doing his best to ignore Seonghwa across the room.

*

“How can you tell us apart,” Seonghwa mumbles from the couch, when Yunho finally dares to turn to him, to acknowledge his existence. “He has the hair now, but you had no trouble before that either.”

There’s an open bottle of wine in front of him, a glass next to it, but they both look barely touched. Seonghwa takes the glass but doesn’t drink from it, just cradles it in his hands.

Yunho takes a deep breath, then crosses the room to sit next to him. As far away as the couch would let him.

“You’re not that similar,” he says quietly. It feels so odd, talking about it out loud, especially to this Seonghwa. He grips the edges of his flimsy shirt. “You may carry the same face and build and hell, mostly the same personality? But you come from different worlds, literally. He’s very similar but he’s his own person and so are you.” There’s a pause. The words are burning in Yunho’s throat, dying to get out. He lets them. “I’ve spent so much time looking at you, how could I not tell you apart from a stranger? Even if the stranger is… you.”

He tacks an awkward laugh at the end, hoping it’ll lessen whatever’s hanging in the air around them.

Seonghwa leans to leave his glass next to the wine bottle again, then faces Yunho. He has that same piercing look that Yunho hasn’t stopped thinking about since Park Seonghwa first walked into his life two years ago.

“Tell me,” he says slowly. “Do you think about me? When you’re with him?”

Everything feels so  _ surreal, _ especially with how quiet the world outside is. There aren’t even passing cars outside, nothing. Yunho considers lying, even though his entire being is violently rebelling against the idea.

He reaches over Seonghwa’s lap, grabs the glass from the table and downs whatever’s left in it in one go.

“I’m drunk,” he says, even though the wine was far from enough to make him even tipsy. “I’m going to forget everything that happens by tomorrow.”

Seonghwa only raises an eyebrow. Yunho considers downing the entire bottle.

“Always,” he chokes out. It feels so good to finally let it out. He thought there’d be more words, there _ were,  _ but now that he’s faced with Seonghwa (when did he get so close?), nothing seems to come out.

Seonghwa’s eyes are so intense Yunho wants to  _ die. _

In the end, Seonghwa gets up, takes the glass from Yunho’s hand and sets it back on the table.

When turns back, his expression is one Yunho knows - it’s the same Seonghwa who makes him breakfast sometimes and watches movies with him even though Yunho knows for a fact he doesn’t enjoy them.

But his eyes.

Seonghwa leans down, the tips of his fingers tracing the edge of Yunho’s jaw. 

“It’s too bad you’re drunk now,” he says, quiet and knowing. His hand falls back and he sighs. “I could’ve shown you what it’s like.”

Just like that, he’s gone and Yunho is left there, staring at the empty glass in his hands. His heart is going a mile a minute, his brain is struggling to catch up.

What did just happen?

*

Seonghwa, the other one, cuts Yunho off. He’s not avoiding him per se - that’s a little hard, considering the apartment isn’t very big at all - but he does resume sleeping on the couch and staying there this time. 

It’s like nothing ever happened.

Yunho’s Seonghwa isn’t much better either. He pretends like that night, the talk never happened and everything goes back to normal. Like before Yunho started the weird booty call relationship with his roommate’s alternative self. He cringes even thinking about it (and he thinks about it a lot). It’s just like then, except now the two Seonghwa-s are almost friendly with each other. 

If he’s being honest, Yunho feels a little left out. It’s ridiculous, considering that not too long ago Seonghwa was the one being left out, quite literally. 

Funnily enough, the whole thing feels like Yunho’s stepped into an alternate universe. It’s calm in that odd way that he can’t help but feel like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A two whole days go by and Yunho has never been more aware of the clock ticking in his life.

It’s a warm Friday evening when the stupid shoe finally does drop, then shatters whatever’s left of his poor sanity.

*

Yunho has been feeling ready to go home ever since he stepped into work this morning. When he finally opens the door to his and Seonghwa’s apartment at 7pm, it feels like a blessing.

Seonghwa is already home, puttering around the kitchen corner and he gives a distracted wave when Yunho drops his bag next to the couch and flops on it. 

Alternate Seonghwa is there too, leaning against the opposite end of the couch and flipping through channels without really looking at the screen.

When Yunho joins him, he straightens up and moves closer. “Rough day?”

It feels a lot like the quiet moments in Yunho’s room, after they’ve ruined yet another set of his sheets. But now, Yunho is acutely aware of Seonghwa on the other side of the room, the sound of dishes clinking together in the sink. There’s something else too, niggling at the back of his mind, something Yunho can’t quite put his finger on.

He nods, reaching to push a stray lock of blonde hair out of Seonghwa’s eyes. As much as the bangs do things to his mind, Seonghwa’s eyes have always done more. 

Distantly, Yunho knows that he probably wouldn’t have done that if it were  _ his  _ Seonghwa but with everything that’s happened, touching the alternate version of him is almost natural.

“Mm, I think I know a way to help you de-stress,” Seonghwa says, voice low and full of intent. Yunho hasn’t heard it for days and his traitorous body reacts almost immediately, the breath stuttering in his chest. Seonghwa grins, fingers dancing up Yunho’s thigh and it’s so easy to get lost in the moment, in the feeling.

It feels like an impossible challenge for Yunho to say, “Stop.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow but his hand halts where it is, mere centimeters away from Yunho’s crotch. He hates everything.

“We’re-” he nods at Seonghwa in the kitchen corner, who’s turned to them at some point apparently. He’s leaning back against one of the counters, hands casually crossed against his chest, eyes locked on Yunho and… the other Seonghwa.

“I don’t think he minds,” Seonghwa murmurs in his ear and it’s all it takes for Yunho to deflate, putting up no fight at all when Seonghwa tugs him into his lap.

There’s something different when they kiss, too. Yunho can’t quite place it but it lights a fire in his gut, stronger than any of the other times they’ve done this.

A part of it is definitely the mix of shame and arousal, knowing that Seonghwa, the Seonghwa Yunho has been thinking of for so long is just standing there, watching him get ravaged by an alternate version of himself.

But there’s something else, something-

The fire explodes, consuming Yunho whole and he pulls away, vision swimming. He blinks at Seonghwa, at the tilt of his lips, the knowing look in his eyes and wonders how the hell did he miss it.

“You’ve dyed your hair,” he chokes out, finally.

A pair of hands wraps around his waist and suddenly there are lips on his neck, a low chuckle in his ear. “We both did, beautiful. I told you I know how he thinks, didn’t I?”

Yunho can only whine in response, too lost in the feeling of Seonghwa’s palms on his things. He’s leaned closer too and Yunho can feel the heat of both of them, surrounding him from all sides. There are fingers on his belt buckle, working it open and another set bunching his shirt up to splay over his stomach. At this point Yunho is too far gone to distinguish which set belongs to who. He finds he doesn’t really mind either way.

It’s the last mostly coherent thought his overwhelmed brain manages, right before he gives up on thinking at all.

*

Yunho has no recollection of how they got here but that doesn’t change the facts. He’s in Seonghwa’s room, sprawled on Seonghwa’s huge king bed. His clothes have disappeared somewhere, possibly on the way here but Yunho couldn’t care less.

Especially now.

Seonghwa gives him a slow smile, his blonde hair a mess from all the times Yunho clutched at him for dear life. He’s on his knees on the foot of the bed, facing the other Seonghwa who’s in a similar position in front of him.

Deep inside, Yunho knows what’s about to happen.

He’s dreamed of this exact moment so many times ever since the other Seonghwa showed up in their home. It was mostly in the wee hours of the night, when there was no one else awake to judge him but himself.

Then a little more often, after alternate Seonghwa found out about his… thing.

No fantasy could have ever prepared him for the real thing.

Seonghwa’s fingers dance up the sides of his alternative self and Yunho swears this image will be burned into his brain forever. It’s easy to notice the small differences in their appearance with them both naked, this close to each other. Hair color aside, Yunho’s Seonghwa has a little more muscle, is a little paler than his other version. 

His fingers travel up, up, up until they bury into locks of black hair and Seonghwa tugs, mouth latching onto the exposed neck. 

The other Seonghwa tries to keep eye contact right before his eyes roll back, a stuttered moan breaching the silence of the room. Yunho finds it quite hard not to echo it.

It’s fascinating, watching what starts as a show meant to tease Yunho turn into a competition of who can make the other more desperate. It’s like they’ve forgotten about him and Yunho’s dying to touch either, both of them but the sight is just  _ so good. _

He can’t tear his eyes away and without thinking, his own fingers wrap around his cock. It’s a loose, barely-there grip but even that has him biting back a groan. Yunho doesn’t think he made a lot of noise but it still makes the two finally separate, eyes trained on him again. 

“Oh baby, did we forget about you?” 

Yunho feels a pang of regret for ruining the moment but it’s gone very quickly, when Seonghwa reaches for his ankle and pulls, Yunho’s legs falling open without much protest.

Alternate Seonghwa moves behind him and Yunho strains to follow his movements. Seonghwa between his legs digs his nails into his thighs, an amused smile on his lips as he watches Yunho whip around and subsequently struggle to meet his eyes.

Alternate Seonghwa reaches over Yuhno to drop a bottle of what’s most likely lube and a condom between Yunho’s legs.

“I could prep him, y’know,” he mentions casually, settling behind Yunho to pull him into his lap. “I have… experience.”

“And I want to have it too,” Seonghwa grins. It’s like Yunho isn’t even there, even if he can  _ feel  _ both their eyes on him.

Yunho allows himself to soak up the knowledge that he’s sandwiched between Seonghwa  _ and Seonghwa. _ The reality of it crashes into him like a tidal wave.

Seonghwa’s fingers are cold when they circle Yunho’s rim and for the second time tonight, his thoughts fly out the window.

*

If Yunho’s being completely honest, Seonghwa has a bit of a… fumbling start, so to say. But if there’s one thing he’s learned from the last few weeks, it’s that Seonghwa in any dimension is nothing short of determined.

He has Yunho a moaning mess within minutes and by the time the fingers pumping in and out of him have become three, Yunho is on the verge of tears.

“Please,” he sobs, Seonghwa’s beautiful fingers curling just so. He’s distantly aware he’s babbling but Seonghwa won’t  _ stop  _ and alternate Seonghwa has pulled him up enough to trail kisses down his neck, palms roaming over his chest. Even if Yunho’s brain hadn’t fully succumbed to the pleasure before, it sure has now. 

“It’s okay, baby, we’ve got you,” Seonghwa’s voice says through the haze and at this point, Yunho isn’t even sure which one said the words.

He feels himself being tugged away from the Seonghwa whose lap he’s been occupying and whines at the loss of warmth, then at the loss of the fingers filling him.

But really, Yunho shouldn’t have worried, because next thing he knows, he’s surrounded by Seonghwa again, his Seonghwa this time, even though at this point telling them apart means nothing.

It’s a lie.

It means  _ everything, _ and as soon as Yunho sinks down on Seonghwa’s cock, legs bent on either side of his thighs, Yunho’s brain explodes like fireworks.

He’s done this so many times already, in so many different ways with a person that is still Seonghwa but… not. They might be the same human being, sure, but the person Yunho has dreamed of for so long now isn’t so easily replaceable. Even by himself.

A new burst of energy surges through him, enough to let him fuck himself on Seonghwa, nails digging in Seonghwa’s shoulders like he’s gonna float away if he lets go.

Maybe he will.

The other Seonghwa runs his fingers down his spine, barely touching. Yunho moans, leans back into it but the motion only serves to change the angle and he all but collapses backwards. Once again, he finds himself sandwiched between Seonghwa and Seonghwa, until all remnants of thought fizzle out of his mind, replaced by flashing images of blonde, black, piercing stares and everything meshed together, hands everywhere and-

Yunho has no idea whose hand has wrapped around his cock or even when it happened but it’s there, and it’s all it takes before he checks out completely. He’s only vaguely aware of the string of incoherent sounds coming out of his own mouth.

He must have only been gone for a few seconds, because when his surroundings start coming back into focus, Seonghwa is just pulling out, away.

Yunho whines, grabbing for Seonghwa’s wrists with as much strength as his liquid muscles would allow him.

“Stay here,” he mumbles, trying his best to keep Seonghwa as close as possible. He can feel him, still hard and still mostly inside him and Yunho is well aware that Seonghwa is too much of a sweetheart to just keep going. But something in Yunho violently rebels against the very idea of leaving things as they are, of letting Seonghwa take those two steps back.

And, in the end, even fucked out as he is, Yunho’s stomach twists in anticipation at the thought of Seonghwa going on, just like this.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks, not quite protesting but not eager, either.

“Please,” Yunho says instead of an answer. Maybe it’s the cotton that seems to have taken the place common sense usually occupies in his brain. Maybe it’s the reality that he’s here, slouched in an alternative Seonghwa’s chest while Seonghwa,  _ his  _ Seonghwa is in him, looking at him like he’s the hottest thing he’s seen in his life-

“Please,” Yunho repeats. “I’ve wanted this for so long, please don’t just leave me like that, please, please, please-”

Seonghwa gently unclasps the fingers locked around his wrists, spreads Yunho’s arms wide. A moment later, the other Seonghwa takes hold of Yunho’s wrists, resting them on the bed, trapped.

Another whine claws its way up Yunho’s throat but Seonghwa’s palms take residence on his hips next and all noise dies before it has a chance to reach the surface. Seonghwa’s grip is so tight Yunho is sure there are going to be bruises the next day. He can’t wait.

The haze is starting to lift by the time Seonghwa finally starts moving again, a pillow now propped under Yunho’s ass. He quickly finds out he’s not going to get any new orgasms out of this but he’s not too worried about it. It feels nice, and the desperation written all over Seonghwa’s face more than makes up for the lack of knots in Yunhos’s stomach.

Seonghwa’s thrusts become frantic soon enough and Yunho claws at the sheets as much as the hands around his wrists will let him. His vision is going spotty again, something slow and intense rising up in his chest like a tidal wave. His dick is still mostly uninterested, even if his body is on fire to make up for it. In the end, Yunho just allows himself to go lax in alternative Seonghwa’s lap. Letting Seonghwa use him like this, just to get off, sparks something deep, deep inside Yunho’s gut but he’s too tired to freak out about it right now. There’s going to be plenty of time for that later.

He must have passed out again because next time Yunho’s eyes focus, Seonghwa has already pulled out and is disposing of the condom.

The other Seonghwa shifts and Yunho feels his cock digging into the small of his back. And just like that, he feels like a complete asshole. The other Seonghwa was hard throughout Yunho having his brains fucked out, then through Seonghwa chasing his own orgasm into Yunho and now-

Now he’s gently moving Yunho up the bed, propping him against the bed frame with a kind, if a little clouded look.

Yunho doesn’t really feel like moving, so he makes grabby hands at alternative Seonghwa instead.

“You can have me too,” he offers, voice more breathless than he expected.

Seonghwa exhales, loud and strangely sounding like _ fuck, _ and the other Seonghwa grins, leaning over to cup Yunho’s cheek. His thumb travels the edge of Yunho’s cheekbone, only to end at his lips. Yunho sucks it in without thinking and there’s another  _ fuck, _ perfectly coherent this time.

“That’s very generous of you, baby,” the other Seonghwa murmurs. “I think you had enough for tonight, though. And besides,” there’s something intense, almost feral in his eyes when he turns back to Seonghwa. “I have something else in mind and I have a feeling you’ll enjoy watching.”

Yunho stares, mesmerised, as alternative Seonghwa moves down the bed, tracing Seonghwa’s bottom lip with the finger Yunho was just sucking on. It feels so filthy, even if what they already did was a lot worse and really, Yunho can’t stop watching.

Alternative or not, Seonghwa is always right.

They can’t seem to look away from each other’s mouths and for once, Yunho is glad that the haze of arousal isn’t clouding his mind. He wants to commit every second to memory. 

Seonghwa finally leans in, dragging his teeth over his alternative version’s lips before licking into his mouth, slow and obscene. They don’t lose track of their surroundings this time and Yunho is a little sad about it, even if it means that every action is angled so he has a perfect view of it. Alternative Seonghwa is the one to pull away first, only to push Seonghwa down to his knees, until his face is level with the other Seonghwa’s cock.

Seonghwa looks up as he parts his lips and Yunho can’t help but echo the groan that tears out of alternative Seonghwa’s throat. He’s oh so slow as he pushes inside, watching as his cock disappears between Seonghwa’s plump lips, as his eyes flutter shut when he swallows around it.

Another groan, and the other Seonghwa lets out a breathless chuckle when he pulls almost all the way out, allowing Seonghwa to catch his breath. “Is this how other people feel when they watch me?”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa huffs, grabbing at his alternate self’s wrist where it’s resting on his shoulder, only to bury it in his hair instead. “I want you to fuck my throat.”

All the amusement drains from alternative Seonghwa’s face and his fingers tighten, blonde hair spilling between his fingers. 

“As you wish, princess,” he grits and even if Seonghwa had something snarky to say he loses the chance to quickly enough, mouth full of cock instead. Alternative Seonghwa bottoms out without preamble, lets Seonghwa choke for a bit before he pulls out, only to slam back in a moment later.

Seonghwa goes slack in his other self’s grip and more than anything, Yunho wishes he could film this maybe, just to make sure no detail is lost when he thinks about it later. And he’s sure he will.

Alternate Seonghwa pulls out just in time to paint Seonghwa’s face in streaks of white. Seonghwa bites at his bottom lip, mouth curled in a smile as his alternate version groans again, then pushes his face away.

Now that most of the intensity has dissipated, Yunho can’t help but laugh. “See what I have to deal with on a daily basis? You’re both terrible.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining fifteen minutes ago,” Seonghwa says, eyebrow raised and he looks so smug, even if there’s still cum on his cheeks. 

Yunho doesn’t dare to retort.

“I think some cleaning up is in order,” alternate Seonghwa says, grinning when his other version nods with a grimace.

But the thing is, Yunho still doesn’t feel like moving. “Can we maybe-”

“Nope,” both Seonghwas chorus, oddly in sync and Yunho can only groan as both of them drag him off the bed by the ankles.

*

The evening of the new moon comes way too soon. Yunho is happy, he truly is, with Seonghwa wrapped around him while his alternative version hugs them both, the pendant digging into Yunho’s collarbone. Him and Seonghwa are a thing now and he no longer has the fantasy excuse.

Still, he finds he’ll miss the extra roommate. Him being almost identical to his actual roommate is only part of the reason.

“Stop looking so sappy,” alternative Seonghwa admonishes, even if his own expression is laced with sadness too. 

"Well,” Yunho huffs, to Seonghwa’s muffled laughter. “I just found we're not fated lovers or whatever. Cut me some slack."

Seonghwa pokes him in the ribs, still laughing. "We may not be in love in every universe but do you know another Yunho who's slept with the Seonghwas of two?"

Alternative Seonghwa nods solemnly. "If it makes you feel better I'm pretty sure at least one of my boyfriends has slept with you. It was only a matter of time before I did too."

Yunho blinks against the sudden onslaught of that visual.

Nope.

“So how is this going to work?” He asks instead, ignoring the twin knowing looks aimed at him.

“I just fell asleep last time,” the other Seonghwa shrugs, pointing at the loveseat. “I plan on doing that again.”

“Should we… wait with you?” Yunho offers, hesitant. Seonghwa’s arm around his waist brings him closer, squeezes gently.

“That would only make things harder, don’t you think?”

Yunho does but the small, selfish part of him just doesn’t want to let go. He sighs, enveloping the other Seonghwa in one last hug, then grips Seonghwa’s wrist, dragging him towards his bedroom. 

Laughter follows them through the tiny hallway but Yunho doesn’t look back, only smiles to himself when the door to Seonghwa’s room is safely closed behind him.

“Look on the bright side,” Seonghwa says as he unbuttons Yunho’s shirt, a painfully fake-innocent smile on his lips. “Now we get to go on all the dates we missed out on so far.”

And that, well. That Yunho can’t find a single fault in.


End file.
